CHAPTER XVIII
At half past eight on the morning indicated, Amarilly's ring at the door of the studio was answered by Derry, whose face was covered with lather.
"Hello, Amarilly!" he exclaimed heartily, extending his hand in genial comradeship. "I am glad to see you again. Been pretty well through the summer? Well, come on into the butler's pantry, and see what you can do in a coffee way while I finish shaving."
Amarilly had been receiving instruction in domestic science, including table service, at the Guild school. Colette, interested in the studio work, had provided some minute muslin aprons and a little patch of linen for the head covering of the young waitress, advising her that she must wear them while serving breakfast. So when Derry emerged from his dressing-room, a trimly equipped little maid stood proudly and anxiously awaiting him.
"Why, bless your heart, Amarilly! I feel really domesticated. You look as natty as a new penny, and the little white cap is great on your hair. I see you have remembered how to fix it."
"Thank you, Mr. Derry, but please sit down while your coffee is hot."
"'Deed I will, and if it tastes as good as it smells, I shall raise your remuneration."
He pronounced the coffee delicious, the grapefruit fixed to his liking, the toast crisp, and the eggs boiled just to the right consistency.
"And have you had breakfast, Amarilly?"
"Yes, Mr. Derry, at half past five."